Building the Committee: Myrken's Precious Little Flower

[Glenn]

As Governor, Cinnabar Calomel had refused to give up the position of High Constable. He governed not from the Meeting House but from his office at the Constabulary. While Glenn Burnie had already taken strides to not repeat such an act, including delegating more of his old work to his staff, including and especially, Genny, Aleksei, and yes, even Petronela, he had yet to move his office elsewhere.

So when the letter reached Agnieszka Kaczmarek it was brought from his old offices and what was implied was that she met him there.

For one of the first letters sent by the new Governor, it was anything but official.

Agnie,

We need to talk already.

Glenn

[channe]

The messenger finds Agnieszka at her parents' three-room home, eating stew and showing her family some mementos of Razasan -- a drawing of the Eternal Palace she bought at the bazaar, a bracelet made of iridescent shells she'd found on the beach, stories of the incredible, vast and unbelievable thing known as the ocean. Karol, half-drunk as always, was in the middle of telling his oldest daughter once again that there was no such thing as an ocean when the messenger knocked on the door.

Agnieszka reads the letter with some consternation, apologizes to her family, slips on her coat and walks off the Calomel farm towards town.

When she gets to Glenn's old office, she'll just barge in and walk as far as she can go, barring locked doors and ignoring any sputtering staff that may wander out to meet her. She's slightly rumpled, wearing some of her old work clothes; the sword-belt around her waist is the only thing that she's kept from her previous job. The saber, of course, is an even older momento. And if she makes it to his office, she'll just lean against the door and wait for him to say something, her arms crossed and her mouth set in an angry line.

[Glenn]

There was actually a standing rule not to get in Agnie's way. She was an odd case. Glenn had assembled a relatively large staff for a backwoods governmental agency, especially one without a clear mandate. Their job, it seemed, was to assemble files on EVERYONE, from an enterprising urchin such as Octavious Swift (name considered an alias), to Duke Burel himself. There were only two files which were 'locked,' or needed Burnie's permission to read. One belonged to Ariane Carnath-Emory, the other Agnieszka Kaczmarek. There was a mystery to her last year, but no one was allowed to pursue it. So eyes stared upon her with curiosity, but no one barred her way.

"You're not a large woman." Burnie hadn't yet looked up. "A lot of muscle, sure, but you're slim. Lithe. How is it then that you walk so damn loud?" Then he'd look up at her. There was a little grin on his face, but it was slight. He didn't look any different as governor. "I guess that's why Kostroma didn't bet on this. Even though I was going to take the wager in your name, I still half thought you would have re-upped with him immediately."

[channe]

Her mouth twists in the manner of someone who's about to laugh at a sick inside joke. "I can be quiet when I want to. Right now, I don't feel like it. I feel like punching you in the face. So you're makin' friendly bets with my old boss, huh? You two drinkin' buddies yet?"

She pauses, and looks around the room -- has he even started packing? She fixes her gaze on Glenn again. This time, there's less anger. This is her friend, even though she's obviously considering violence. She folds her arms and taps her fingers absently against her upper arm.

"You don't just re-up with the King's Own. In fact, I shouldn't have been able to be freed of the geas in my whole damned life, that's how much I owed them. What the hell did you give him?"

[Glenn]

"If you wanted to punch me in the face that badly, you would have done it before saying hello, Agnie, not that you said hello." In his mind, to him, she seemed younger already. More herself. You'd think it was he clothes but truly, for most of the time Glenn Burnie had known her, she had worn one uniform or another. Maybe it was just how she was leaning. And it was good she found a spot to lean between the files and the papers and the clutter. He knew where it all was (mapmaker), but the idea of moving all of THAT into some lush office seemed more than a little daunting, so no, he hadn't started packing yet.

Here, he would get serious. She asked a very serious question after all. "In one year's time, the king shall take full possession of Myrken Wood and all of its holdings. I know it's a lot to give up, but you're worth it to us Agnie, every bit. I'm sure everyone in the province feels that..." Then he flashed her a smile and raised a hand before she stormed out to torch the world. "No, I'm kidding. Mainly, I more formally gave him a bunch of things that were already implied anyway. If the king's soldiers come, I don't raise a fit and try to stop them. Like I could with our resources. I don't bow to Burel, like I'd ever want to. I root out his spies, which sounds like basic good business to me. At some point soon I'll say some mean things about him publically. That should be fun. Hell, I got Kostroma so pissy that he stormed out before he made me agree to toss out the Thesshole ambassador. I don't know. I thought Baron Burnie has a ring to it. Bar-rroonn Burnnnie." At that there was a little shrug and a more honest smile to her. No more of that creepy, ever-present thing. "Annoying things I'd rater have not had to agree to, but all worth it if it means you're free." He TOLD you they were going to save you Agnieszka Kaczmarek.

"As for re-upping, that was one of my terms. I think I said that you could storm right around and get your old position back for a shiny bauble. I do know how you like those, Agony. And he agreed completely." Then a long, cold stare. "Just because I'm governor now doesn't mean I'm some foppish idiot like Bromn. I wasn't about to give you a gift at the cost of everything you've been working for. I don't know what they told you, but those were my terms." One last pause as he looked up to her from his desk. "So are you going to punch me, or go off and get your shiny bauble, or what? Because if you're staying, we have things to discuss."

[channe]

She listens to all of this with a considering face; the anger leaches away slowly, and he has to remember that Agnie's been angry since the day she learned what it was. And she is leaning -- something she'd never done as one of the King's Own, and her hair is messy, sticking out in places, and her boots are brown and scuffed, not black and shiny. She listens, glowering at him at the fakeout. At the end of his explanation, she pushes herself off the stack and walks over to the guest chair, clears the stack of papers sitting on it, and pretty much drops into the seat, leaning back and crossing her legs demurely; but that chin is still raised in a slight challenge.

"I fucking love money, and Razasan is amazing," says Agnieszka, "but I like you more than I like Constantine Kostroma." She flashes a bit of a smile, and tilts her head. Since she left the King's own, her speech has changed, too. The dropped consonants, the rounded peasant vowels -- all of that has returned. Funny. "You shouldn't piss him off, Glenn. He's a bad enemy to have. He's been working for the King for longer'n I can tell you an' I can say that when I got that letter from him sayin' I'd paid off my debt and that I can go free I thought he might've asked for --"

Asked for your soul, she wants to say, until she remembered what Lamai told her --

"-- well, something a lot more than that. You got off easy."

She pauses, looking around the office a little before she looks back at him. "An' I did, too. I owe you fuckin' big time, Glenn Burnie. Don't think I'll forget it."

And she doesn't get up -- just fixes him with a challenging stare from across the room.

[Glenn]

That's a girl. Save for the basest and most extreme of pleasures, Glenn Burnie had spent over a year barely able to enjoy or appreciate most aspects of life. He had his purpose and it fulfilled him, but nothing MOVED him. Now though? Now that a trickle of soul was connected once again, the barest trickle. Some things made it through. This was one. He shut his eyes, savoring it for a moment.

Then, finally, almost reluctantly, he opened them again, the slight instance of appreciation gone and, for now, sadly out of reach. "I didn't give up anything but a bit of pride. Myrken, however, gave up some things there, and that's where you owe your debt. Me, I'm just your friend." Which is the thrice damned thing he had been telling you for years, Agnieszka Kazcmarek. Believe it yet? "Rhaena's your best friend. And we don't promise things likely."

Now then, down to business. "So that debt to Myrken. First off, I'm hoping I can trust you. I'm hoping you're not some ghoul on a puppet string and that Kostroma's just a lying jerk. All that talk of the bright? Makes me think he keeps his word, though." Even if he had put things poorly to Agnie. Religous jerks were usually trustworthy though, to a fault. Glenn would be happy to use that. "The fact of the matter is that I don't understand nearly enough how things happen there, what's been happening there." Rhaena was just coming back from Razasan but... well, that was a whole different story. "I need you to help me figure it all out." And didn't THAT chafe. Glenn Burnie needing Agnieszka to explain to him what was what.

"There's something else, though." Suddenly, Glenn Burnie seemed as if he was in the midst of some great decision or another. Suddenly he was not quite meeting her eyes again.

[channe]

Some ghoul on a puppet string, he says, and the most imperceptible of shivers runs through her shoulders; she closes her eyes and remembers Kostroma's last words for her. Remember what you are, he said, before he wove his hands through her hair and spoke the last message of the Bright in her ear.

Like she could forget.

Like she could ever forget.

"I will always serve the Bright. If you don't trust me," she says, carefully, "then you wouldn't be sittin' here squirmin' like a hungry monkey. Out with it. And if you don't trust me, I'd best be goin'." A pause. Does he know her well enough to notice that she seems to have changed her words? She used to talk of the One God, the Kind Savior. "But I think you do. I can help ya to a point. I mean, it's not like I was goin' to the fancy parties and chatting up the earls. But people is people... everybody wants the same shit no matter where you go."

She leans down, and absently wraps a dangling thread around her pinky finger, releasing it, and then wrapping it again. "Power. Money. Status."

[Glenn]

People is people. "I'm sure you can bring a lot to the table." Then he raised his hand, the universal Glenn Burnie sign for 'but wait! I have more.' Here, though it was more of a stalling tactic (in truth, it was usually a stalling tactic but only because he tended to say so damn much. Here it was especially). Whatever Glenn Burnie had been pondering, whatever deep and terrible thought had been going through his mind, it would remain a mystery because instead of letting it lose, he gave her a very wry smile.

"In truth, Agnie, I had a whole speech lined up about how the Councilor for Defense position was opening and how I was going to offer it to you, but after how gracefully you took my earlier joke,I fear that if I led with that, you'd slit my throat here and now." OR she'd try. The two of them had traded blows but never drawn on each other. The twin students of Ariane Emory. Just how WOULD that go?

He continued before she had time to throttle him instead. "No, the position is vacant. Unfortunately, we both know I can't put you there. Politics has nothing to do with a worthy person doing the job they ought to." Well, past Burnie as governor of course! "You're common born, even if it is a lovely family... the mother at least. You're a murderer, no matter how justified. You were recently in service to the king. You're as political as a coon with its claws out... You're female." With that, a little shrug. Burnie didn't make the rule. "It'd never do. At the same time, you spent the last few years studying tactics. You were head of the Militia. You have experience here and outside the province. You're damned good at what you do. And we need what you have. So are you going to go toss your hat back in the race.. AGAIN, and thereby become useless to us, or are you going to stuff it back on your head (which needs to be brushed, by the way... though hiding it with a hat is a good idea too)," he was just full of asides today. It wasn't quite madness talking, but it sure was a LOT of talking, about half of it useless. Maybe the pressure had got to him already. Maybe he just missed her. "And listen to what I have to propose."

[channe]

Yes, how would that go? They've come a long way from those early days, from slight hatred to a grudging respect and now whatever this thing they're doing is, but they still have yet to draw. Maybe that's a show to be had in Renea's new arena.

Agnieszka's face is almost a comic play; at first she's wide-eyed, as if she couldn't possibly believe those words are coming out of his mouth; and then, slowly, as he keeps on digging himself a very, very large hole made of his insults and jibes, her face becomes simply apopleptic. And then, when he finishes, she bites her bottom lip so hard it goes white to stop herself from saying anything nasty. That, at least, was something she learned in Razasan, apparently. Finally, she takes a breath, and responds, squirming in her chair, tapping unkempt against the arm-rests.

"First of all, I ain't never met a noble-born that didn't have his head so far up his ass he couldn't see the sunshine, and they don't know shit about what the commoners need," she begins. "Second, don't fuckin' insult my Pa; third, I think beating the shit out of certain people is good politics, and you know it is, too. And my hair is fine. In case you forgot, I got fired and I don't have any fuckin' money so I can't even buy a comb for it." The murderer comment she moves straight over; nothing she would say about that at this point could be good, and a part of her is extremely grateful to Glenn.

She crosses her arms and bites the inside of her cheek. "Yeah. I'm a girl. This ain't the first time I wished I weren't... so what're you proposin' already? I hear you're givin' the militia to that Renea chick."

[Glenn]

With friends like this.. Well, at least he was honest with her, right? Far, far too honest. "Don't think I didn't weigh the pros and cons of it, Agnie. I did." He was trying not to look at her hair now. Too poor to brush her hair. Oh Agony, you ridiculous creature. He took a deep breath. "So yeah, can't make you a Councilor." He had said nice things about her there too, but she never pays attention to that. No.

"Yes, Renea. She's a mercenary but the do-gooder sort. Reminds me of Quincy actually. Not the drunken signing on tables, no, but the hero bit. Doing the right thing for the sake of it and all that." They didn't get them often. When they did, they didn't live long but... "I have someone looking into her a bit more now and she's starting as a consultant. SHE can't be Councilor either." Foreigner, unknown quantity, female. TOO moral, it seemed. "She latched on to the militia though. I wasn't about to let her run around on her own once Kostroma showed up."

Alright, fine, knock her hopes down. Time to build it all back up. "We're not going to have a Councilor of Defense. We have three qualified candidates, none of whom can politically have the position. If you saw the posters, I mentioned a Committee. That was a bit duplicitous of me." Really? Glenn lie to the Myrken people? All for their own good of course. "I only had one person in mind. Here's what I'm suggesting though. We actually have a committee. Three people. You vote amongst themselves prior to the more formal meetings. You get to be the chairwoman and representative of the committee and you take their vote to the Council and sit in, voicing the committee's opinion and casting its vote." So she got to be the nuisance she wanted to be, shocking and appalling everyone, but without Glenn breaking any rules. Plus she gets a title and a generous enough stipend. Of course, he still hadn't mentioned who the third person was.

[channe]

"I know you did," she said, "and I know I can't be Councilor. Even though I should be." She winds the thread around her fingers, tight enough to cut off the blood there; and then lets it go. She looks around the room one more time. Papers everywhere. A few years ago, she wouldn't have known what they said. She still might not know some of the more scholarly documents, but she had a good handle on the basic letters, which was enough.

"I like Renea alright," she then says, which is high Agnie-praise, of course; the woman matched her drink for drink in the tavern a few nights before, and among soldiers that's often a code for a budding friendship. And then thoughts of that is wiped away with Glenn's audacious and ridiculous proposal. As he talks, her eyes go wide; and then she laughs, and she tries to cover the fact that she's laughing, and then those dark eyes -- darker than they were before she left for Razasan? -- sparkle with humor.

"You are a fuckin' rat fink king, Glenn Burnie," she says, shaking her head. "Of course you're Governor with the brain you got. Sure I'll do it. Ain't nobody else around here can. 'Specially if I get to shout down Treadwell? An' do it all official-like? Shit, man, I'll do it just for that." She straightens in her chair. And then she eyes him.

"... you do know if it comes to war, soldiers need a straight-on chain of command. A committee may be good fer now, but if Thessilane decides t' be naughty, we can't be sittin' in a room tryin' to reach a consensus."

'Consensus.' Not a word she would have known before Razasan.

[Glenn]

This was different than most of the talks they've had before, and they've had lots of talks. For one thing, Glenn was actively trying to preempt her concerns. He was rushing out in front and dropping a line here and a line there to prevent the whole thing from blowing up. For another, she was LETTING him. Three years ago that would never have happened. Three weeks ago even?

But now he's laughing too, an it's lighter than hers, though not quite as deep. "Agnie, if I say that you'll be high general of Myrken Wood, you'll do everything in your power to CAUSE that war, just so you can get that power. We'll cross that bridge when we get there. IF we get there."

The laughter receded into a smile and then a nod. "I'm glad you accept." And yes, he was glad that Agnie knew what a consensus was, though it was a three person committee. They didn't need consensus, just majority... though for war decisions, maybe consensus would be better. He'd have to think about it and just let her assume what she would for now.

"Excellent, take a few days, get your hair brushed, all that. Once I hear back about Renea and make her the offer, we'll be going to see the third person I have in mind." And here Glenn's smile faded. His face became real even, not wanting to give anything away. Who needed a theater when you could watch Agony's reaction to things. "He's already basically agreed to serve in such a role. Kerrak much prefers it to only being able to help by blowing things up." Surprise.

[channe]

Three years ago, Agnie had not spent months upon months sucking down the secrets of the Bright, bound to the world in the Flagellant's Tower -- but those are memories, now, she tells herself, as Glenn drops that last name --

-- her mouth hangs open for a moment, and --

-- she gets up, quick as she can. She'll start pacing. And yelling. Oh, lots of yelling. "I'm gonna start thinking yer a channeler, Baron-Burnie, because you are just as batshit as any one of them. Kerrak would be a great choice for the committee -- if he weren't headin' towards crazy psycho killer town on a drunken rabid donkey! Oh, I forgot, you weren't there, you didn't see the Meetinghouse burn to a crisp and all those people die. I was Janeiro then. I looked up to him. I feel sorry for the man, he usedta be a mentor o' mine, but in the end he's a Thesshole an' he's going to burn the fucking town. Just ask him. He knows it's the end of the line. We all know that."

[Glenn]

Drunken Rabid Donkey. Ladies and Gentlemen of Myrken Wood, your new Chairwoman of the Defense Committee. She ranted and raved. She stormed and paced. He sat there, calmly, trying not to look too amused. A simple truth about Kerrak Al'Nerun: Glenn knew less about the man than one would think. The only person who would say much to him about the tragedy that had just taken place was Ariane, and she generally preferred to talk about things like Kerrak covering up murders for her than his eventual fall. Still, Burnie was a clever sort and he had the idea of the thing at least.

"Are you quite done, Agony?" What the fledgling governor called her shifted from moment to moment, and if there is rhyme or reason to it, it would not be immediately obvious to anyone observing. Of course she WAS currently giving him a bit of a headache, so maybe that was the agony in question. "He is HERE. He is sitting in his room, drinking the tea that restrains his power, and he is waiting. He's simply waiting for the worst to come, for us to call upon him to become what he was before, for there to be some need. At the very least, we're going to give him something to do and give you a chance to keep an eye on him, Agnie. Better you're watching for signs of him regressing towards madness, and if it comes to that, you'll do what you have to, full mandate." Because yes, Glenn Burnie now felt like he could decide who lived and who died, as long as the person who died was a high powered madman who burnt down the meeting house previously. "HOPEFULLY, however, he'll keep it together, and if he does he has a wealth of knowledge that we can certainly make good use of, channeler or no." Didn't he mention that right before you accepted the job? Babysitting Kerrak was a chairwoman's sworn duty.